bolt whines when sarada leaps onto his shoulders and puts on the rest of their disguise. he’s grateful for the eye holes she’d cut out for him, but would much rather have been the one on top.
“but why do i have to be at the bottom?” he complains once again.
sarada smacks him in the head, which to anyone passing by, looks like she’s punching herself in the stomach. “because i’m older, dummy.”
“tch.” bolt grips her ankles to balance her as he walks toward the rest of the adults competing in the world martial arts tournament. “but i beat you in the juniors–”
sarada punches him harder this time and bolt yelps. “because you cheated!”